


Getting Started

by LycanDark



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-02
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-07-28 19:37:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7654087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycanDark/pseuds/LycanDark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the Zevwarden Week Day 1 challenge:<br/>Zevran certainly does make a… unique first impression. What were your Warden’s thoughts towards him, at first? Did they actually trust him, or was recruiting him a purely pragmatic decision? What were those first weeks like?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Getting Started

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Some minor problematic thoughts from Tabris/Zevran, minor references to canon rape, watersports allusions, Tabris’s budding fetish for the idea of being murdered, slight allusion to Tabris not understanding heterosexuals exist

Tabris bit his lip as he approached the stranger, fingers quivering on the hilt of his sword.

_An elf. An elf like me._

The first thing he’d noticed about their attacker were the ears, how they’d been sloped downwards in acceptance rather than perked in hostility. There was more to this than a bandit raid or a… a… Tabris didn’t know what this was, but there was something here.

The second thing he’d noticed was how… _handsome_ the man was as he sliced a deep groove in Tabris’s forearm, the way his brown skin contrasted much less sharply than his own pale body did the dark blood splattering them both. It was beautiful, really, like this stranger was a real warrior, like Sten, instead of a scared and angry child like himself, and yet… Somehow Tabris had taken him down. The stranger was now on the ground, unconscious, and tied.

Alistair patted him on the back as they approached their captive. “I’m a bit surprised you let him live.”

_An elf. An elf. An elf._

“Well, we don’t know why he attacked us. We need answers.”

_An elf. An elf. Another elf._

Tabris leaned down and gently shook the captive awake, feeling more alien under the stares of his human companions than ever before - the familiarity of the man beneath him bringing it to the surface. He wondered for just a second if Sten would feel this way if they found another qunari, but the thought flew away when the stranger stirred.

“Oooh… Mmmm… What?” The stranger groaned and shook his head. “Oh, I… I rather thought I would wake up dead, or not at all, as the case may be. But, I see you haven’t killed me yet.”

“I, uh, I have some questions.” Tabris said, standing back up and crossing his arms to steady himself as he met the stranger’s eyes. They weren’t the eyes of a killer. They were scared eyes, like Soris’s eyes. And yet…

The stranger chuckled. “Oh, I am to be interrogated, then? Let me save you some time.”

_Please don’t. What if I have to…_

“My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens – which I have failed at, sadly.”

Just that much had Tabris’s heart racing for an entirely different reason, though he was a bit confused as to why exactly. He’d think about it later, preferably when they made camp. He’d need to be quite _thorough_ in figuring that out.

“I’m rather happy you did.” Tabris let out a soft chuckle.

_I can’t._

“So would I be, in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn’t it? Getting captured by a target seems a tad detrimental to one’s budding assassin career.”

“Too bad for you, then.”

“Yes, it’s true. Too bad for me.” Zevran sounded quite flippant, but Tabris noticed the quiver of his ears and felt a bit guilty. He hadn’t intended to worry the man.

“So, erm, what are the Antivan Crows?” Tabris asked, hoping to smooth things over and feeling silly for thinking he needed to – this man had tried to kill him after all. But still…

_Another elf._

“Oh! I can tell you that. They are an order of assassins out of Antiva. Very powerful, and renowned for always getting the job done.” Tabris jumped at the sound of Leliana’s voice to his right. “So to speak. Someone went to great expense to hire this man.”

“Quite right.” Zevran had a hint of a laugh and perhaps pride in his voice as Tabris turned back to him, and Tabris wondered momentarily if it was over the topic or how obviously enthralled he was with him. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard much of the Crows down here. Back where I come from, we’re rather infamous.”

“Not for being good assassins, I see.” Tabris didn’t mask the tease, and Zevran didn’t hesitate to accept it.

“Oh, _fine,_ is that what you Fereldens do? Mock your prisoners? Such cruelty.”

Tabris’s ears perked up in relief as Zevran’s relaxed. He knelt down to make proper eye contact with Zevran for a moment, to give him what he hoped was a comforting smile.

“So, who hired you, anyway?”

“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was. Yes… That’s it.”

All at once, Tabris was fairly certain that this man would know what he had for breakfast quite soon. The man he’d so respected really hated him that much? What threat was he? A small, absurdly lucky, elf just barely old enough to get married? Loghain was a war hero, far out of his league. He’d never stand a chance against him.

“Does that mean you’re loyal to him?”

_Maker, please no. I can’t. I really and truly can’t._

“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine, you threaten his power, yes? Beyond that, no. I am not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.”

“And… and now that you’ve failed that service?” Tabris hated himself for the way his voice cracked.

_Please give up. Please._

“Ah, that’s between Loghain and the Crows. And between the Crows and myself.”

Tabris flinched at how bitter the end of Zevran’s sentence sounded. “And you and me?”

“Isn’t that what we’re establishing now?” Zevran quirked a brow at him.

“Oh. Right. Ah… So when were you to see him next?”

Zevran let out a laugh. “I wasn’t. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain, if he didn’t already know. If I had failed, I would be dead, or at least I should be. No need to see him then.”

“ _If_ you had failed?” Tabris tried the tease again, to take them back to the slight levity of before.

“What can I say, hunh? I am an _eternal_ optimist.” Zevran gave him a sly grin. “Although the chances of succeeding at this point seem rather slim, don’t they?”

He laughed, a great deal more deeply and honestly than he had so far, and Tabris smiled wide, tempted to join in. It stopped the second Alistair and Sten took a step closer, both elves tensing and Tabris standing back up.

“No, I don’t suppose you’d find that funny…” Zevran eyed the warriors’ weapons, ears perked high and tense, twitching at every minor sound. Tabris’s own in a matching position as he stepped a bit closer to the captive, putting himself between them all.

“So, uh, why are you telling me all this?”

“Why not? I wasn’t paid for silence.” Tabris could feel the slight hysteria in his own chest that tinged the forced nonchalance of Zevran’s reply. He took another step closer.

_Another elf, another elf, won’t let another elf die on my watch, not hurt, not like her, not gonna fail her, not again, never again, Maker please, let my friends be friends to me._

“Were you paid to talk my ear off?”

_Just keep talking. Talking. Don’t stop. Don’t give them a chance._

“Consider it something I am throwing in for free.” Zevran kept his gaze on Tabris, seeming to use him to ground himself. “As it is, if you are done with the _interrogation_ , I have a proposal for you, if you’re of a mind.”

Tabris nodded. “Very well.”

“Well, here’s the thing: I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. If you don’t kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living and you are the sort to give the Crows pause. So… let me serve you instead.”

Acceptance was on his lips faster than he registered the stares from his companions on his back, barely managing to switch to a question before the words left his mouth. “Ye-What’s to stop you from finishing the job?”

“To be completely honest, I was never given much of a choice regarding joining the Crows. They bought me on the slave market when I was a child.”

Tabris’s mind flashed to an auction of elves for cruel humans, all Vaughan and his friends, the Quartermaster, and the guard that k… he shut that thought down there. There was no way Zevran had ever met someone so cruel. At least, Tabris prayed to the Maker that was so, and, if not, that he’d never meet someone so cruel again.

“I think I’ve paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can’t touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might just kill me on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I’d rather take my chances with you.”

_An elf. A fellow elf. Of course your chances are better. I need you._

“What do you want in return?”

“Well, let’s see.” Zevran smiled. “Being allowed to live would be nice, and make me marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line, if you should decide you no longer have need of me, I go on my way. Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?”

_Very much so._

“I suppose. I accept your offer.” Tabris knelt back down to start untying him, only to be made to stop a second later.

“What?! We’re taking the _assassin_ with us now? Does that _really_ seem like a good idea to you?” Alistair grabs his shoulder and forces him around to look him in the eyes. Tabris swallows.

“Yes.”

“ _Andraste’s knickers,_ how?”

“He’ll be handy to have around.”

“He tried to kill us!”

“He _failed_ to kill us. And Loghain thinks we’re about to be ambushed any day now.”

“So?”

“So… so, we’re taking Zevran with us, whether you like it or not.” Tabris jerks away from Alistair’s hand. “We need everyone we can get.”

_I need him._

Alistair let out a longsuffering sigh. “Fine. But if there was any sign we’re desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello.”

“Welcome, Zevran.” Leliana’s voice was warm, kind. “I think having an Antivan Crow join us is a fine plan.”

Tabris relaxed and resumed untying Zevran. He could always count on Leliana to back up his decisions, and with that, Sten sheathed his axe. Was that the right word for if it’s an axe? Tabris wasn’t sure.

_Thank you, Maker, for these companions you have granted me._

“Oh? You are another companion-to-be then? I wasn’t aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, surely.” The sultriness in Zevran’s tone made Tabris smirk, but Leliana rolled her eyes.

“Or not.”

Tabris laughed and tugged Zevran up to his feet. Zevran looked him dead in the eyes and gripped his hand.

“I hearby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such time as you choose to relieve me from it. I am your man, without reservation, this I swear.”

Tabris squeezed Zevran’s hand more tightly as the man bowed his head. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Lycan Tabris.”

* * *

  

Zevran doesn’t have a tent or anything else necessary to actually surviving in the woods. Tabris stares at him and quirks his brow, but it didn’t really matter now, did it?

“You can share with me.” He says, firmly taking Zevran’s hand after seeing him trying to get comfortable on the ground and shivering far too much in this blasted Ferelden weather.

“Forgive me, but this is all so… sudden.” Zevran waggles his brows. Tabris rolls his eyes.

“If you don’t want to be warm-”

“Yes, please.” Zevran likes that the warden has a similar sense of humor, at least so far. Makes everything easier, even moving past that he’d tried to kill the man – boy? – earlier. Tabris laughs and leads him into his tent, stretching out on the ground next to his bedroll. A large dog growls and climbs on top of him, and it really takes about two seconds for both of them to pass out. Zevran just stares at the two, then the bedroll, and then back.

“Oh.”

He’s hesitant as he strips out of his armor and gets into bed.

_Congratulations, Zevran, you just won the new master lottery._

He pulls the covers a bit tighter around himself and rolls to face the warden, wondering when this consideration would come to an end.

_Well, if this changes, at least he’s handsome enough._

* * *

 

Zevran wakes to the sound of a dog barking and whining.

_Where am I?_

“Sorry, sorry, I’m coming, boy.” A sleepy, low voice mutters to his left and everything comes back to him.

_Oh, that’s right._

Zevran sits up to watch his tired benefactor undo the tent flap and let the dog out. That done, the sleepy redhead flops back onto the ground and sighs.

“Sorry for waking you. He’s just very good about not pissing where he sleeps.”

“It’s fine. I much prefer being woken to being pissed on.” Zevran bites his tongue before hesitantly pushing his boundaries. “By a dog, anyway.”

Tabris crooks his neck to smirk at him. “That so? Never really tried that one myself.”

“It’s certainly warmer than these blankets.”

“I know a few tricks to keep you warm.” Tabris rolls over onto his stomach and props himself up by his arms. Zevran keeps a smile on his face.

“I’m sure you do.”

_Definitely handsome enough, and giving him another reason to keep me around couldn’t hurt._

“Oh, yeah, just have Dagger lay on you. Better than a fire, I have to say.”

Zevran gives a startled laugh. “Is that why you Fereldens like your dogs so much?”

“Of course. We’d never survive otherwise.”

_I really did luck out. Almost a pity, though._

* * *

 

It was weeks after Zevran joined that they reached Haven. Such a creepy town and painful trial, Shianni… Tabris held himself a bit more tightly as he stared into the fire.

_Let it go. It’s her pain. She was the one hurt. You’re just the worthless cousin that failed her._

He shook his head, trying to banish that thought. A warm hand on his shoulder clears his mind instantly.

“Are you alright?” The warm, honeyed voice in his ear asked so sweetly.

“I’ll be fine. What about you?”

Zevran shrugged. “I’m always fine.”

“Liar.” Tabris leaned against him but didn’t press. “Oh, that reminds me. I found something in that shop.”

“Mm? What is it?”

“A gift, for you.” Tabris whistled at Dagger, who dragged his pack over. He rustled inside and pulled out the beautiful gloves he’d found and kept out of the spoils pool.

“Gloves? You’re giving me _gloves?_ ” Zevran quirked a brow as he took them and looked them over. “Whatever for?”

“Dalish gloves, like the ones you mentioned… your mother’s.” Tabris shrugged. Zevran inhaled sharply.

“Oh.” Zevran swallowed, ears quivering a second before he gets them to settle. Tabris pressed against him a bit more, pointedly looking back into the fire to give Zevran a second to compose himself. When he spoke again, his voice was perfectly steady, and gradually more excited. “I… Maker’s breath, you’re right. They are like my mother’s. The leather was less thick…”

_That’ll keep your hands warmer._

“…and there was more embroidery, but these are very close. And quite handsome.”

_You’re quite handsome._

“You’re welcome.” Tabris looked at him again, giving him a wide smile at his enjoyment.

“Do I sound surprised? Perhaps I am.” Zevran leaned back against him, holding the gloves close. “Still… I appreciate the fact that you even thought of me. No one has simply… given me a gift before. Thank you.”

Tabris rested his head against Zevran’s shoulder. “Well, you should expect more, then.”

“What?”

“You’re my friend, Zev. Friends give each other things sometimes.” Tabris closed his eyes. “No strings attached.”

“Thank you, my friend.”

* * *

 

Zevran stares at Tabris’s ass a lot while they walk. It’s the perfect antidote to how much his feet hurt and how cold he is and how boring this constant trekking is. Tabris has the perfect ass, it would be so easy to grope, he’d just need to reach out just so and… And while the thought was incredibly tempting, he couldn’t risk offending him. It was unlikely, but even a small chance was a chance and then Zevran would be out in the cold with nothing but his gloves to remember the warden by.

His beautiful, warm gloves. Zevran smiles as he looks down at them, flexing his fingers and turning them this way and that. When he looks back up, he finds Tabris grinning at him and slowing his walk. Zevran tries not to feel too disappointed at the loss of the view.

“So, Zev, do you stare at everyone’s ass like that, or do you just think I’m pretty?”

“I don’t see why those options have to be mutually exclusive.” Zevran wets his lips, sneaking a glance at him. “You are an incredibly handsome man, so why deny myself the view?”

“Cause, if I’m always in front, when’s my turn to look?”

Zevran snickers. “I suppose that’s a fair point.”

Tabris’s ears perk up in obvious delight. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to be behind _you_ now. Is that alright?”

“Do I have any choice when you’re looking at me like that?” Zevran intends a tease, but Tabris stops in his tracks, eyes wide and ears drooping.

“Y-you always have a choice.”

“Mmm, not always. But there are worse circumstances to find myself in.”

“What?”

“I mean, I’m sworn to do as you command-”

“Zev, I’m not going to hold you to an oath, not when it comes to-”

“Which is why I definitely made the right choice to join you.” Zevran rests a hand on Tabris’s shoulder, glancing around to confirm there’s a distance between them and their companions. “You needn’t concern yourself.”

Tabris rubs the back of his neck. “Well, you can tell me if you’re uncomfortable or if you want me to stop, okay? Cause I don’t…”

“Do you want _me_ to stop?”

“Of course not.”

“Then relax.” Zevran pats Tabris’s cheek before snickering as he continues walking, letting his hips sway just enough to draw Tabris’s attention. “To be quite honest, I’m just glad you don’t mind the attention of other men.”

“Does any man actually mind?” Tabris finally starts walking again.

“Many do.”

“Loonies.”


End file.
